CowMow's Adventures on Omegle
by CowMow
Summary: Yeah, that's basically what happens. Enter 'Johnlock' and there you go!
1. Chapter 1

**This is what happens when CowMow enters Omegle. :) If you were the nonny: thank you, you were awesome!**

**...**

**Stranger:** John? SH

**You:** Yes, Sherlock? JW

**Stranger:** Guess what. SH

**You:** I have /no/ idea. JW

**Stranger:** 3 it's a heart. SH

**Stranger:** I made a text heart. SH

**You:** Are you drunk? JW

**Stranger:** No. I'm bored and playing with emoticons. SH

**You:** Go and pester Anderson, not me. JW

**Stranger:** Why would I talk to Anderson? SH

**Stranger:** I'm bored, John. :( SH

**You:** I am sure he would love your emoticons. JW

**You:** I noticed, Sherlock. JW

**Stranger:** You aren't amused. :\ SH

**Stranger:** I find them quite amusing. SH

**You:** Good for you. Perhaps it might be more amusing if it wasn't in the middle of the night. JW

**Stranger:** D: SH

**You:** Stop. It. JW

**Stranger:** :o are you mad? SH

**You:** A little, yes. JW

**You:** Go to sleep, Sherlock. JW

**Stranger:** I can't. SH

**Stranger:** Come cuddle with me? ;) SH

**You:** For the love of jam... No, Sherlock. JW

**Stranger:** Please? :3 SH

**Stranger:** It helps me sleep when you play with my hair. SH

**You:** Okay. JW

**Stranger:** 8D SH

**You:** John stumbled out of bed, walked down the stairs and met Sherlock in the living room. "Stop sending me those horrible emoticons, Sherlock," he yawned.

**Stranger:** Look it's Angelo. :{D SH

**You:** (hahahahah)

**Stranger:** Sherlock chuckled lightly and looked up from his phone. He was curled up in the corner of the couch, wrapped in a blanket. "Did you see the Angelo one? I thought that was clever," he said.

**Stranger:** (lol:))

**You:** "Yeah, it was," John nodded. He glared at his flatmate who was impersonating a lovely cat. "Oh, come here you!"

**Stranger:** Sherlock grinned and unfurled himself from the couch to pad over to John, enveloping him in his arms and nuzzling his cheek. "Will you let me cuddle you in bed?" he asked quietly. "And will you play with my hair?"

**You:** John smiled against Sherlock's chest. "Of course, handsome."

**Stranger:** Sherlock hummed contentedly. "Then let's get to bed," he said softly.

**You:** "I love you..." John mumbled softly, before taking Sherlock's hand and leading him up the stairs.

**Stranger:** Sherlock blushed a bit and followed, being dragged slightly by John's hand. He looked down at his phone and smiled.

**Stranger:** 3 :) SH

**You:** John looked at Sherlock and then at his phone. Quickly, he typed out a message. 'Marry me?'

**Stranger:** Sherlock blinked down at the message, slightly taken aback. 'Really? :0 SH'

**You:** John chuckled. 'Oh god, yes! :$ JW '

**Stranger:** Sherlock bit his lip and grinned. 'Well then of course. :D SH'

**You:** John opened the door to his bed room and looked at Sherlock. "Please, enter, fiancé of mine."

**Stranger:** Sherlock looked at John and smiled wide, then bent over and placed a deep kiss to his fiancé's lips. "I love you," he murmured against them.

**You:** John let go of Sherlock's hand, only to tangle them in Sherlock's unruly hair. "You too!"

...

The End


	2. Chapter 2

**This is what happens when CowMow enters Omegle. :) If you were the nonny: thank you, you were awesome!**

**...**

You and the stranger both like Johnlock.

**Stranger: John... -SH**

**You: Sherlock... JW**

**Stranger: John? I feel a little faint... SH**

**Stranger: You sent me 'I love you' before you fell asleep - SH**

**You: Did I? JW**

**You: No, I didn't! JW**

**Stranger: Yes you did. -SH**

**You: Oh. And now you feel faint? JW**

**Stranger: No, I feel fine. -SH**

**You: I am sorry about sending that. I meant to send it to Jessica. JW**

**Stranger: J and S are nowhere close to eachother... -SH**

**Stranger: John... h... help... sH**

**You: John frowned at his text. Something was wrong. He sighed and threw the covers away. He padded down the stairs, into the living room. 'Where are you? JW'**

**Stranger: kitchen -SH**

**You: John twirled around and saw his friend. "Sherlock, what are you doing?"**

**Stranger: "Making tea." Sherlock said as he filled the kettle with water, "Why?"**

...

The End


	3. Chapter 3

**You: John, I need paracetemol. SH**

**Stranger: What for?- JW**

**You: Headache. SH**

**Stranger: Poor thing. I'll pick some up.- JW**

**You: Thank you. John? SH**

**Stranger: Yes?- JW**

**You: Love you. SH**

**Stranger: I love you too, dear- JW**

**You: I feel horrible. Is my brain dying? SH**

**Stranger: No, of course not. You're probably just coming down with something. I'll take a look at you when I come back, and tuck you into bed.- JW**

**You: Sounds lovely, although I am comfortable where I am now. SH**

**Stranger: And where might that be?- JW**

**You: Under the sofa. SH**

**Stranger: Sherlock why are you under there? Don't be silly.- JW**

**You: It's nice and dark here. SH**

**You: Dark is good. SH**

**Stranger: Sherlock you'll get sicker. Get out of there.- JW**

**You: I'd prefer not to. There's too much light in the room. SH**

**Stranger: I'll close the curtains.- JW**

**You: That might help. May I stay here until you get back? SH**

**Stranger: Fine. I'll be there in 5. Love you.- JW**

**You: Thank you. SH**

...

The End


	4. Chapter 4

**Stranger:** John..? -SH

**You:** Sherlock..? JW

**Stranger:** Don't die. Alright? -SH

**You:** I wasn't planning to. What's going on then? JW

**Stranger:** I had a dream.. You were shot.. And lost a lot of blood. You died. -SH

**You:** Are you okay now? JW

**You:** I am most definitely not dead. JW

**Stranger:** I know you're not dead. I'm okay now.. I guess. -SH

**You:** Do you want me to come downstairs? JW

**Stranger:** No. I want to be alone. -SH

**Stranger:** I love you though. -SH

**You:** You do? JW

**Stranger:** Yes. -SH

**You:** Now I am coming downstairs anyway. JW

**Stranger:** Ugh. Fine. -SH

**You:** Sherlock, we need to talk about this, okay? Or do you want to do this in the morning? JW

**Stranger:** I'd rather not talk about it at all. -SH

**You:** About you loving me? I think we do need to talk about this, Sherlock. JW

**Stranger:** What is there to talk about? -SH

**You:** Well, what are we going to do now? JW

**Stranger:** Stay the same. I doubt my feelings will change the way you feel about me. I know. -SH

**Stranger:** It's happened before. -SH

**You:** With whom? JW

**Stranger:** Nobody.. But the point is. You don't care. -SH

**You:** I do, Sherlock. So much. JW

**Stranger:** Really? -SH

**You:** I do care about your feelings, yes. Hell, I would take a bullet for you. JW

**You:** In fact, I have. JW

**Stranger:** I'm grateful for that John. That's why I love you. -SH

**You:** You love me because I took a bullet? JW

**Stranger:** No. I love you because.. I don't know! -SH

**You:** Are you alright? JW

**You:** I heard that, you know. JW

**Stranger:** I'm fine. I'm just a bit shaky.. -SH

**You:** I love you too. JW

**Stranger:** Thank you John. -SH

**You:** I want to kiss you now. JW

**Stranger:** That's fine with me. -SH

**You:** Can I come down then? Or do you want to come up? JW

**Stranger:** Just come in my room. -SH

**You:** Coming down now. JW

**Stranger:** Sherlock ignored the last message from John

**You:** John swung his legs out of bed and padded downstairs. Softly, he knocked on Sherlock's door.

**Stranger:** "Come in."

**You:** He opened the door and groped his way towards Sherlock's bed. "I can't see anything, where are you?" he whispered.

**Stranger:** "Under the bed."

**You:** "What? What on earth are you doing there?" John exclaimed, dropping on his knees to look under the bed.

**Stranger:** Sherlock looked at John. "Nothing."

**You:** John chuckled. "Got out from under there, I'll break my back if I try to kiss you now."

**Stranger:** Sherlock sighed and nodded. Sherlock got out from under the bed, and then sat on top of it. "Here."

**You:** John sat down beside his friend and grabbed his hand, forcing Sherlock to look at him. "I meant it, I love you. We-we don't have to do anything, you know, just as long as you're comfortable with it."

**Stranger:** "I just.. wanted to tell you. I was scared.. You.. Wouldn't feel the same.."

**You:** John carefully cupped Sherlock's cheek and smiled. "And how do you feel now?"

**Stranger:** Sherlock blushed "..Um.. Happy"

**You:** "Good," John murmured, "Happy's good." He raised his other hand and placed it on Sherlock's other cheek. "May I?"

**Stranger:** Sherlock nodded and closed his eyes.

The END :D Nonny broke off, not me. xD


	5. Chapter 5

Stranger: Followed you on the bus today. You thought you recognized me for a minute.  
I will never forget the look on your face when you realized it couldn't be me.

I'm sorry.

-SH

You: Pardon? JW

You: Who is this? JW

Stranger: Do I need to say anything more than that to tell you, John? -SH

You: What the hell? JW

You: Sherlock never said 'I'm sorry'. JW

Stranger: I never had anything to apologize for before now. -SH

You: Where are you? JW

Stranger: Currently leaning outside the door to the flat. You forgot to keep the numbers polished. -SH

You: Are you really there? JW

Stranger: Why don't you come see for yourself? -SH

You: Deduce it, twit. JW

Stranger: I am not going to shove myself back into your life, John. If you want to see me, do so. Otherwise I will leave you be. -SH

You: John swallowed hard and tossed his phone on the sofa. He slowly straightened his too baggy T-shirt and walked down the stairs. He hesitated at the door, but some outer force made him open the door. He walked out, bare-feet, on the streets and looked for Sherlock.

Stranger: His back was pressed up against the white boards behind him, arms crossed and floppy mop of brunette curls covering part of his eyes. He had let it overgrow by accident over the months but it was still clearly Sherlock with his black coat and scarf. His eyes shifted to the left when John came out but his head and body were directed forward, across the street, as if he was steeling himself for a punch or a very hard goodbye.

You: John froze to the spot when he saw Sherlock leaning against the wall as if he had never left. "Good god," he breathed, his hands trembling and his voice a mere quiver.

Stranger: Sherlock dipped his chin into his chest, the folds of his blue scarf coming up to hide his mouth as he braced his shoulders and rotated part of his body towards John, eyes glazing over the man as he picked up the few aspects and details he hadn't assessed on the bus ride. "John..."

You: A few more steps, and John was close, Sherlock was so close. He lifted his trembling hand and gently stroked the curls away from that wonderful face he missed so much. He felt real. He was real, and a dry sob excaped John's throat. "You're here. You're really here."

Stranger: He almost flinched away from the touch and there was a small frightened look in his eyes that Sherlock had never been capable of possessing before all of this had come to pass. Sherlock was scared, truly and utterly frightened that he would be turned away and sent of back into the world.

You: A soft, tiny smile tugged at the corners of John's mouth. His hand slid down from Sherlock's temple, over his cheekbones to his lips. His eyes, locked at Sherlock's face, flicked down for a mere second. His hand slid lower, over his shoulders, grabbing Sherlock's hand. "Come inside," he said, softly.

Stranger: Sherlock nodded hesitantly, hand squeezing John's briefly before glancing at the door and taking a few steps towards it. He was actually home. Finally and fantastically home where he belonged with John keeping him anchored to the earth. Stepping inside, Sherlock turned around and caught one last glimpse of the busy London street before shutting the door behind him, ready and willing to make this change work.

...

Thank you, nonny!


	6. Chapter 6

**Stranger:** You are still awake. SH

**You:** How do you know? JW

**You:** Ah, never mind. Yes, I am. JW

**Stranger:** Everything alright? SH

**You:** Yeah. JW

**Stranger:** Are you certain? SH

**You:** No. JW

**You:** Not really, actually. JW

**Stranger:** What is the matter, John? SH

**You:** I can't sleep. I am over-thinking matters. But I'll be fine. JW

**Stranger:** Staying awake because you are over-thinking things? SH

**Stranger:** Might have rubbed off on you. SH

**You:** Yeah, you might. JW

**You:** You know, I never told you why I came home with red eyes. Someone died on my surgery table. JW

**You:** Everyone says I did all I could have done, but still. I see her in front of me every night. JW

**Stranger:** When did this happen? SH

**You:** Three days ago. JW

**Stranger:** Figures. SH

**Stranger:** You are a good man. The best man most people who get to meet you ever know. SH

**Stranger:** Mistakes are inevitable. The human body is fragile. SH

**Stranger:** Hers. SH

**Stranger:** So is the human mind. SH

**Stranger:** Yours. SH

**You:** I know. But I know I could have saved her. I missed an internal bleeding. If I had seen that she would still have been alive, just like her unborn baby. But thank you, Sherlock. JW

**You:** I shouldn't have made mistakes, not then. Not ever. I'm a doctor, I should have saved her. JW

**Stranger:** Inevitable. Not everyone can be saved. SH

**Stranger:** It is simply the nature of any occupation, when one is in the business of fixing things. SH

**You:** Where did you learn to say all these things? JW

**Stranger:** I am, too, in the business of fixing things. SH

**You:** You never make mistakes. JW

**Stranger:** I've had worse days. SH

**You:** Really? I'm sorry. JW

**Stranger:** Don't apologise. SH

**Stranger:** A single honest mistake is allowed, once in a while. You need to learn to live with it. SH

**You:** I suppose so, yes. Can I come downstairs? JW

**Stranger:** Of course. I am in my room. SH

**You:** John swung his legs out of bed and rubbed his eyes, trying to get rid of the red traces on his face. He picked a T-shirt from the floor, and pajama bottoms from the chair, pulling them on. Seconds later he knocked softly on Sherlock's door.

**Stranger:** Hearing the familiar footsteps slowly make their way to his bedroom door and linger there, Sherlock put his phone away on this bedside table, and sat up against the headboard, facing the space that would be filled with John in a few seconds. He didn't bother with more than a mere, deep hum as a greeting as he adjusted his blanket, ready for John to climb in.

**You:** Slowly, John opened the door. He walked inside the room and sat down on the bed, next to Sherlock. John's face was hidden in the darkness of the room, but his voice was soft and telling. "Thank you, Sherlock." He smiled sadly, avoiding Sherlock's eyes which were just visible from the light that came through the door opening. "I think talking about it helps."

**Stranger:** Sherlock hummed again, more focused this time. His mind was hard at work, analyzing and cataloguing John's movements and body language, comparing it to the samples the detective had collected from previous occasions. Scared. Tired. Upset. Sad. Bit not good. "It might," he said, a certain tender note ringing in his voice. "I've never had the...means to try it myself," he explained, leaning forward and pulling the blanket up to John's stomach. "I will listen, however."

**You:** John made himself comfortable as he laid back on the soft mattress, head supported by his hand. The blanket was warm and smelled comfortingly of Sherlock. Softly, he began to speak. "She was brought in, early in the morning. She was hit by a car, had some broken bones and such, but there wasn't anything that indicated something else might be wrong. She was pregnant, yet I decided to fix her arm under surgery. I just wasn't careful enough. I was so focused on saving her child and on setting the bones that I forgot to check if there was anything more wrong." A single tear slid down his face. "I should have checked."

**Stranger:** Pressing his pale lips together, Sherlock looked down at John. The man was obviously distressed, in need of reassurance and some sort of forgiveness, but the detective knew well that he wasn't exactly the most talented when it came to comforting others. "You have gone over the surgery countless times in your mind," he said, moving his right arm and hooking it, subconsciously, around John's shoulders and pulling the man closer to himself. "When a memory is replayed by the brain, many factors differ from the original situation. The clearance of mind, the level of panic, and the brain's sense of time are changed through repetition of the same memory. Saving her, perhaps, really was not possible."

**You:** John looked up at Sherlock, almost pleading. "You think so?" he asked in a small voice. His shoulders were tense and he tried to pull his face in a stoic mask, but it wasn't working out. He was tired, but not too tired to let go completely. He wiped the tear away, roughly, harshly, but it was followed by another. He swallowed hard and looked at his hands, which were clenched into fists, lying on top of the blankets. He had gone over the events, leading up to it, the actual... thing, and the aftermath countless of times, and he knew somewhere in the back of his mind that Sherlock was right. He always was, wasn't he?

**Stranger:** Careful to not disturb John, Sherlock slid back down against the mattress, lying in his side and facing the doctor, his right arm still wrapped around the man's shoulders. "I think so." His voice was soft, gently ringing in the dimly-lit, still air of the room. Smoothing out John's sandy peppered hair with his left hand, Sherlock pulled the doctor closer against his own chest, determined to make him as soothed as possible. "Yes, I definitely think so. And you should as well."

**You:** John's breath escaped in a shivery sigh when Sherlock's arms surrounded him, enveloping him in a warm, Sherlock-smelling, comfortable and safe cocoon. His headache was soothed by the soft baritone of Sherlock's voice, and he found himself able to close his eyes, his head resting against Sherlock's chest. He heard Sherlock's breathing, and he could count his heartbeat. His shoulders shook as he could let go, a soft sob sounded muffled against Sherlock's solid chest. There was so much John wanted to say, so much he wanted to ask, but he found himself happy to just lay here and be drained of the tiring and, apparently, useless feelings of guilt.

**Stranger:** Running through John's blonde mop of hair for one last time, Sherlock's pale, boney hand found its way to John's back, rubbing up and down the shorter man's spine, applying pressure in a way that the detective knew was pleasant, as he waited patiently for John to calm down. During the minutes that followed, Sherlock opened his mouth numerous times, attempting to say something soothing, and closed it back, realising that the best thing to do was to let John soothe himself. His open palm made its way patiently from the small of John's back to the base of his neck in languid, circular motions, the taller man's other arm all but fighting to pull John as close as he physically could.

**You:** John opened his eyes and met Sherlock's grey eyes, bright and searching, seeing and somehow understanding in a way John had never seen in there before. He managed a weak smile as he carefully, testing, lifted his arm to wrap it around Sherlock's small waist. He felt the tension leave his body by his best friend's ministrations, and somewhere in the back of his mind he wondered how he could never have known this side of the mad genius. He shuffled a little closer so he could bury his face comfortably in the crook of Sherlock's neck, feeling Sherlock's breath tickle his hair. He squeezed Sherlock's waist, conveying his feelings and gratefulness.

**Stranger:** The sensation of an arm around him (John's, at that) was ridiculously new at first. It took all of Sherlock's efforts to not tense up from the contact, knowing that John would interpret such an action the wrong way, and the situation at the moment was extremely fragile and not to be toyed with. Instead, Sherlock relaxed against the doctor's touch, allowing himself to be pulled closer the same way he pulled John closer to himself, and let his silvery eyes flutter shut as he continued to rub John's back, his mind slightly distracted by the feeling of feathery-light breaths against the crook of his neck. "Better?" he asked, quite uselessly.

**You:** A soft nod was all John could manage at the moment. His hand wandered over Sherlock's back, mimicking the circles Sherlock's hand was drawing on his back. "Yeah, loads," he softly whispered after a while. His mind was at rest now, and he felt he could brave the night again. He just didn't want to leave this small peaceful sanctuary they had created. He suddenly realised he had never been this close to another man, let alone Sherlock. He knew that if he started to ask questions, the small bubble would be penetrated. Questions and answers could wait until tomorrow. He smiled softly, pressing a soft kiss of pure gratitude to the smooth skin under Sherlock's chin. "Thank you, Sherlock," he whispered as his eyes closed again.

...

Thank you, nonny!


End file.
